


Lucius Travels

by lexiatel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Complete, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:41:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23898424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexiatel/pseuds/lexiatel
Summary: Lucius's ghost travels back in time to change the past of a suicidal Draco.This  ends as a Dramione."Ah, the greatest thing about being a spirit of the Afterlife is the ability to appear anywhere we feel the need to."Lucius tilted his head, slightly confused about his statement. The old codger had always confused him. "How will that at all help my son?"Albus scratched his bearded chin with a pause in thought. "Perhaps it's not a where you would like to travel to, but more specifically, a when."
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 10
Kudos: 152





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Story is completely written. No more updates will need to be made.

Lucius stood over his beloved son, reliving the regrets that he had made when he was amongst the living. He had been dead for decades now and had painfully watched his son live a long life of absolute unhappiness. 

Lucius blamed himself for this, of course. He _had_ paved Draco's path, afterall, but he'd truly give anything to have changed the choices that he had made involving the sculpting of his son— if it would have allowed Draco a happier life.

Draco was currently unconscious, near death from a drinking a poisonous concoction that he had brewed himself. He wasn't dead yet, but he soon would be.

"Draco, my boy," he whispered, weeping. "I do apologize for everything that I've done." 

A blinding, bright light appeared right then, and after Lucius's eyes came back into focus, he saw that the spirit of Albus Dumbledore was now standing near him. 

"Good afternoon, Lucius," the ghost greeted him simply.

Lucius gave him a nod. He wondered why the former Hogwarts Headmaster would even bother visiting the dying Draco Malfoy.

"I'm not here for him," Albus stated, somehow reading his mind. "I'm here for you. I would like you to do something for me."

"I'm not leaving him," Lucius said firmly. "I want to be here for when he crosses over."

"I believe that if you want to, you can keep him from crossing over."

Lucius lifted an eyebrow. "His death is inevitable, how do you propose to stop it from occurring?"

"Ah, the greatest thing about being a spirit of the Afterlife is the ability to appear anywhere we feel the need to."

Lucius tilted his head, slightly confused about his statement. The old codger had always confused him. "How will that at all help my son?"

Albus scratched his bearded chin with a pause in thought. "Perhaps it's not a where you would like to travel to, but more specifically, a when."

Lucius was momentarily perplexed. "Are you saying that—" Lucius stopped himself short and shook his head over the ludicrous thought. After all these years, living in the Afterlife, how had he not thought about time travel?

"Traveling time is indeed possible," Albus confirmed his thoughts. "Although, I do not suggest doing it as a way to relive your past. You will get lost in a sea of regrets. I deeply warn you to avoid that. Following another person's past though, that's not such a terrible idea."

Lucius looked down at his sleeping son. His skin was starting to grey, an effect of the poison. He was literally minutes from taking his last breath.

"Do you mean that—" Lucius wouldn't get to finish his question, the ghost of Albus Dumbledore had disappeared.

*/*

Draco paced back and forth. His body violently shook as he walked. He had read so many books these past few months, and while he understood the concept of the spell, the _physical_ casting of it he still didn't comprehend. 

His days were numbered, and, if he was being honest with himself, he had never thought he could pull off the task. Draco had no other choice though. If the plan failed, he would be punished dearly for it. 

And it would be the last punishment that he would ever receive. 

Draco loosened up his tie, feeling that he was suffocating. He pulled up the sleeves of his shirt, suddenly hot. He held in his breath, attempting to get a grip on himself. 

He was a failure. That's all he could think about. Everything that he planned had fallen apart and hope was slipping away quicker than a Snitch that had been released at the beginning of a game. 

He was going to die over it. And so was his mother. 

He choked then, losing control of himself. A loud sob erupted from him, and he broke down completely, forgetting where he even was.

"Why are you crying?"

Draco jumped up, automatically withdrawing his wand, ready to obliviate the girl that had caught him in his miserable state.

No one was going to walk away with the idea that he couldn't compose himself.

But it wasn't a girl— not a _living_ one anyway. It was Myrtle, the ghost who inhabited the abandoned girl's bathroom that he just now realized that he had escaped to.

"It's nothing!" he cried out in defense. He made to exit before he heard a quiet, 

"I'm sorry I can't pass you a handkerchief..."

Draco slowly turned around to look at the ghost. He sniffed, annoyed with his dripping nose. Myrtle was looking down at her feet, ashamed. She held out a ghostly cloth, resembling a handkerchief.

Draco wiped at his eyes, removing them of his loose tears. "My mother always told me that it's the thought that matters."

Myrtle lifted up her head. The corner of her mouth pulled into a smile. "Why didn't you avoid my bathroom like everyone else?"

Draco looked around, scratching at the back of his head. "I guess I needed a place where no one would go…"

She nodded. "So you could _think_ in privacy?"

She was hinting to his meltdown.

"Yeah," he admitted slowly. "Anyway, I apologize for invading your bathroom, Myrtle." He made to leave a second time.

"Come back any time, Draco. It gets lonely here, and I won't tell anyone that you're in a girls bathroom."

He looked back, giving her offer a thorough thought, seeing that the ghost was giving him a shy smile.

"I may just do that."

How a ghost of a girl could soothe Draco, he didn't know. Maybe it was because he didn't have to prove anything to Myrtle like he did with everyone else. She was lonely and needed someone to talk to, and _he_ needed someone who would listen, someone who wasn't trying to steal his glory, someone who didn't pester him about his Death Eater task every chance they got.

One thing that he did know though, when Draco exited her bathroom, he would feel a little calmer. Even if it was just for a short while, his mind was put to ease.

"I don't want to do it today!" Vincent hissed to Draco. They were supposed to be listening to the apparation instructor, but Draco had more pressing matters to address. 

"What else could be more important, Crabbe?" Draco snarled. 

"It's just that… well—"

"Spit it out already, would you?!" Draco growled, irritated that his friend wouldn't properly speak.

" _Malfoy_ ," McGonagall barked out. "Be quiet and pay attention!"

Draco pressed his lips together as everyone looked his way. He stepped away from Crabbe, creating some distance between them.

"I have a date," Vincent informed when the attention was back on the instructor.

"Well, this is more important than your snogging some Ravenclaw girl!"

"Are you at all close to finishing your project?" Vincent wondered hopefully.

"I don't know how much longer, alright. It's taking longer than I thought it would." Vincent made to argue with him, but Draco stopped him before he even got a word out. "Look, it's none of your business what I'm doing, Crabbe, you and Goyle just do as you're told and keep a lookout!"

Potter piped up with some snarky insult then. Draco grabbed for his wand but the Heads of all the houses shouted out "Quiet!" in unison, stopping him from casting anything. He sent Potter a deathly glare, wishing to put the Gryffindor in his place. Instead Draco focused on the lesson, ready to get this over with so he could go back to his _real_ work. 

"They expect so much from me," Draco told Myrtle later. He sat at the ledge of the tub and placed his head into his hands, shaking it, disturbed with himself. "Do you realize how _exhausting_ that is?" 

"I can only imagine," Myrtle said softly, seating herself next to him.

"Can anyone be as perfect as what they want me to be?" he asked hopelessly. "I've _tried_ and _tried_ …" he trailed off as a rush of emotion hit his gut. "I don't know what to do…!" He swallowed down the threatening sob that had developed into the depth of his throat.

"It's okay," she assured him. "Whatever it is you're trying to do, you'll figure it out. You've learned so much so far, you're the smartest boy I know!"

Draco lifted his head up, surprised at her words. No one had ever said that to him before. He found himself frowning, and Myrtle noticed this.

"What's wrong?"

"I was just thinking how nice it would be if you were…" He looked away, deciding not to say anything more, fearing it'd insult her.

" _Oh…_ " she breathed out in realization. "Yeah, me too. We would have been great together, I believe."

He nodded, agreeing with her. Alas, they would just have to remain friends.

Draco hovered over the sink. He felt like he was going to vomit. He was so sick. Sick with worry, sick with grief. He was scared to absolute death. He was getting weaker and weaker everyday, and no matter what he did, nothing was working.

"Oh, please," Myrtle sung out in her moaning voice, attempting to soothe Draco. "Don't cry. Tell me what's bothering you, I'll help you. I will!"

Draco trembled in his place at the sink. "No one can help me!" he insisted. "Don't you understand? _I_ have to do it! And I _can't_ get it to work...! I just can't...and unless I do it soon... he says he's going to _kill_ me!" He weeped into the sink. He didn't want to die! It just wasn't fair!

He gulped for air, blinking back tears. Something caught his eye in the reflection of the broken mirror that he stood in front of and he whipped around, drawing out his wand, sending a hex off to attack Potter.

Draco knew the bloody Gryffindor had been trying to spy on him, and it was because of that dunderhead that he had to force Goyle and Crabbe to be his lookouts as he worked.

The two Six years fought for several moments as Myrtle screeched for them to stop. Draco grew more furious as the fight continued on, and he decided to finally teach Potter to leave him alone. His _Crutio_ curse didn't get fully casted though. Potter hit him with something so strong, it had caused Draco to bend over, and in horror, he noticed that a lot of blood was gushing out from multiple places of his body.

Draco collapsed to the ground, losing any strength that he had left. Potter hovered over him in complete shock of what he had done, and Draco, if he wasn't fighting for his last breath, would had wondered how Perfect Potter would even know of such of destructive curse.

Draco closed his eyes, shutting out the blood that was now blinding him. He grunted in agony, clutching his chest, feeling the warm, sticky fluid of himself coating his hands. 

He couldn't die now. He had to save his Mother. The Dark Lord would surely kill his Mother if Draco died now. He prayed for a miracle. Someone. Anyone. He didn't care who.

Draco began shaking. The feeling of life was pulling from him.

All he could think about was his defenseless Mother. 

_Forgive me_ , he pleaded to himself. _I'm sorry I failed you._

And then, his prayers were answered. He regained some strength, and his pain lessened. Draco felt himself being lifted up from the wet, cold flooring and he barely noticed that Snape was holding him up.

"You need to get to the hospital," the man told him. He informed Draco that he may have scarring, but Draco didn't care. He was alive, and that's all that mattered to him. There was still a dim light of hope for his mother.

Draco stared at the apple in amazement. He had done. He had actually done it! He took the apple out of the cabinet, staring at it in complete awe. Relief flushed over him, and he smiled, taking a bite out of the bitter, sour fruit, relishing over his accomplishment.

A bright light appeared then, and Draco hurled himself backwards in startlement, dropping his apple. A transparent body stood above him. Draco gasped, his jaw quivering in fright. 

Draco had seen ghosts before, obviously, but this ghost was the most scariest one that he had ever seen. It was the ghost of his father!

"Father…!" he shrieked. "Did he… Did he…" Draco couldnt finish his question, too terrified over the thought of the Dark Lord murdering his father.

"My son," his father breathed, staring at him as if he had never laid eyes on him. He smiled. "You're so _young_!"

Draco's eyes widened in horror. "Is Mother…? Did he kill—"

"Let me explain, Draco. Your mother is fine, and so am I, for the time being anyway."


	2. Two

Draco was sitting on the floor at the cabinet listening to the ghost of his future dead father. It was incredibly strange to hear that his ghost of a father had actually  _ time-traveled _ . Draco knew that time travel existed, but he had never heard of a  _ ghost _ doing it.

His ghost father explained that Draco had a dark future ahead of him, and Draco needed to change his ways before it was too late. Naturally, he knew of Draco's current predicament, but Ghost Lucius insisted that Harry Potter won the war, and Draco needed to make sure he was on the right side.

Draco rubbed his chin in thought, conflicted with the news. "What do you propose that I should do though? The Dark Lord has ordered me to kill Dumble—"

"The headmaster is going to die whether you do it or not."

Draco quirked up an eyebrow. "If I don't kill him, who will?"

"I probably shouldn't say…" the ghost of his father said, uneasily shifting his eyes. "The main thing to do is go by plan— and take his wand when you disarm him."

"His wand?" Draco questioned. "What does Dumbledore's wand have anything to do with this?"

" _ Everything _ ," Ghost Lucius emphasized. 

Weeks later, Draco stared down at the wand that he held in his hands. He was an absolute wreck. Snape had killed the headmaster, and the Dark Lord had severely punished Draco for his failed task. He would likely scar from the curse of his evil master, but at least he was alive. Snape, being a good healer of the Dark Arts, had saved him yet again.

"If what you're saying is true, he's going to want this—"

"He is," Ghost Lucius confirmed. He was deep in thought. "Which means you need to get it to Potter before he finds out that you have it, and then…  _ that's _ when you change sides."

"Your living self will argue with me on this."

"Draco, you're a crafty wizard, I'm sure there's some sort of magic that you can cast upon my pompous, living half to stop me."

Draco set his jaw, terrified of the events that were about to take place. "What if we're changing the outcome?" he wondered, fearful over the thought. "What if the Dark Lord wins this time?"

"As long as Potter has all the Deathly Hallows, he can't lose."

"Are you for  _ certain _ ?"

The ghost nodded. "Absolutely. Having all three makes you entirely invincible."

Draco eyes widened. "That's why the Dark Lord wanted the Philosopher's Stone!"

"Exactly why."

"What about the cloak?"

"Potter got that from his father— which is also why the Dark Lord sought out the Potters in the first war."

Draco nodded, understanding everything as the story fell into place. "How do you suppose we should hide? After the Potters betrayal, I'm afraid to use the  _ Fidelius _ Charm."

"Well, given that I know how things unfold in the future, I know just the person to be your secret keeper."

Draco lifted up an eyebrow. "You actually  _ trust _ someone out side of the family?"

The ghost tilted his head to the side in consideration. He gave a nod. "You'll understand eventually."

Draco was in his room, breathing quickly, nervous about what was about to take place. "I can't do it," he choked out, bringing a shaking hand to his forehead. He pulled it back to look at it when he felt that his face was clammy with sweat.

"You  _ can _ ," Ghost Lucius assured him.

"I'll be  _ outnumbered _ !" Draco hissed. "And, and when _ he _ finds out—"

"Just attack your aunt first, then me, after that, you're good."

Draco shook his head. He bent over, throwing up a bit of bile. "I can't, I just can't…!" he cried out after he had recovered.

"You  _ must _ ! It's the only way to redeem yourself! They will see that you want to reflect, and then they will believe you!"

"Draco!" His aunt was calling for him. "Get down here!"

Draco set his jaw, masking his emotions. He still didn't think he could do this, but Ghost Lucius had said he needed to change his life if he wanted a happy future. He certainly didn't want to live in misery.

A while later, a scream echoed throughout the manor. Draco swallowed back a sob as his aunt cut through Granger's arm. His hands twitched, aching to stop the torture.

"Now would be the time," Ghost Lucius said from next to Draco. 

Draco glaced around, seeing that no one else had noticed the ghost.

"Raise your wand," the ghost ordered. "A good stupify will knock your aunt down, then aim for my living self."

Draco swallowed hard, unable to get rid of the large lump in his throat. The screams made his hair stand on end.

"She'd end your torture if it were you."

Draco snapped his head to gawk at Ghost Lucius. He couldn't be serious?! The Mudblood would do no such thing!

"It's true," he said, nodding. His ghostly eyes were taking in the scene, and he grimaced as Granger's scream got louder and longer.

Draco hastily removed his wand and stupidfied his aunt. Before his living father could even react, he sent him to the floor too.

"Granger," he growled,"Get to your friends! Have Dobby apparate you all out here! Quickly, now! You've got no time to diddle!"

The girl whimpered, gathering up all her Gryffindor courage and stumbled off toward the dungeons.

"Draco…?" his mother questioned uneasily. She had been traumatized by what her sister had been doing and just now was acknowledging what he had done.

"Take Father somewhere safe and stay there," Draco advised her. "Do whatever you need to do to keep him there— drug him, spell him, I don't care, just make sure you don't let him  _ wander _ !"

Tears filled Narcissa's eyes. "Aren't you coming?"

"I've got to talk with Potter first and help him win this thing."

Mother tilted her head. "You think he can win?"

"He has so far up to this point," Draco pointed out. "And the Dark Lord definitely wants him dead… So I'd say he fears Potter." He wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her to him. "Love you, Mother!"

Narcissa let out one, single, shuddering sob before planting a kiss to his head and releasing him. "Hurry!" she demanded and turned to tend to her husband.

Draco picked up the Gryffindor sword that his aunt went nutty over and closed his eyes, remembering the apparation point that his ghost father had informed him about.

He heard shouting off in the distance when he landed. People were arguing. They were arguing about  _ him _ .

"Why would he do that?" Weasley demanded in complete confusion. "He's a  _ Death Eater _ !"

"Apparently he's not anymore!" Granger retorted, shaking from the turn of events. "Draco Malfoy saved us, and we need to accept that!"

"He'll be dead by the end of the night," Potter stated grimly. There was an uncomfortable silence along the three of them. 

Draco took this as his cue to make them aware that he was there. He set his hands at his side, his wand in one of them. "Potter!"

The Gryffindors whipped around to face him, wands drawn out, and Draco raised his wand, closing his eyes, taking a huge risk that Potter would do his part.

And he did. Without hesitation, Potter sent off a spell, and Draco watched in relief as the wand snapped out of his hand.

"I'm done fighting for the wrong side, and I can help you with your defeat, if you'll let me!"

Draco's peers glanced at each other, not yet sure if they could believe him. "I brought your sword to kill the snake," he informed, taking it out of the bag that he had around his shoulder. "And here's his diadem that you need to destory." He dropped the item that he had retrieved from the Room of Requirement with the help of his father's ghost. "I just want my family safe. I need you to hide us," he looked at Granger here. "You  _ owe _ it to me."

Her eyes softened, and she looked down at her partially-marked arm. She nodded. "I'll do it," she decided without even talking it over with her friends first. 


	3. Three

Narcissa eyed Granger as she and Draco entered the safe home that his parents owned in the Muggle city of London. No one would ever think that a Malfoy would set foot into a community of non-magical people, let alone, live around them.

"There's no going back," Narcissa told her son with shaking hands.

Draco nodded, knowing this too. "Where's Father?" 

Narcissa thumbed behind her. "The bedroom. I put him into a sleep for the moment." 

The house was a tiny, three bedroom home that was smaller than Draco's shower room at the Manor, but they couldn't go back there. If they wanted to survive, this was going to be where they would have to stay now.

"What's going on?" Narcissa wondered, her eyes settling on Hermione Granger who had been silently casting an abundance of spells to ward them off from being found.

"We're going into hiding until Potter ends the war. Granger has agreed to be our Secret Keeper."

Narcissa flicked her eyes momentarily to Draco before they returned to Granger. She didn't voice her opinion on that, likely thinking they had no choice.

"Granger," he addressed her quietly when the  _ Fidelius _ charm had be cast. "What's the most common Muggle name in Britain? Do you know?"

"You plan on changing your name," she noted in thought, nodding in approval. "That would be Smith. Jones is a close second though."

"Alright," Draco acknowledged, rubbing his hand over the other nervously. "The wand that I was holding when Potter disarmed me is very important. It is the key to his success. Make sure he does not use it until the final battle with …  _ him _ ," Draco said the last word in a whisper. He quickly turned around from her, inhaling slowly, suddenly feeling overwhelmed at the thought of this all being done for nothing. The air felt incredibly heavily so suddenly. "We  _ cannot _ afford Potter to be disarmed with that wand before then.  _ No matter what _ ."

"You  _ gave _ Harry the Elder wand?" she asked in astonishment. 

"To insure his win, and  _ only  _ for that."

"Wizards would commit murder for a wand like that…" she paused her words, and Draco took that moment to look at her. She was staring at him, her eyebrows creased as if he was some puzzle that she was confused with. "Why didn't you keep it for yourself? You could do wonders with it."

"You think my master wouldn't kill me for it?" he asked her bluntly. "He'll certainly start adding two and two real quickly and realize it was me who had it. This is another reason why I must stay in hiding. He's not going to ask questions, he's a man of action. If I'm  _ lucky _ , he'll kill me instantly."

She gave a slow nod of realization.

"Potter needs the Elder wand more than I do anyway. It's the only way to defeat the Dark Lord. Do  _ not _ , whatever you do, let him get  _ any _ of those items." Draco then explained how important the Deathly Hallows were in the defeat of the Dark Lord.

"What made you turn anyway?" The question was so abrupt, that Draco could tell that she had surprised her own self with the blurting of it. The unknown answer must have been driving her mad. Granger  _ always _ had to know  _ everything _ .

It also didn't help that he and the Gryffindors had never been on great terms. It was a shock that he saved them at all. He, himself, still couldn't believe he had done it.

Draco's eyes dropped down to her now scarred arm. The word that his aunt had intended to etch into Granger's arm was unfinished. Only the letters "MU" had been successfully cut into her, but Draco knew what it would have been if he hadn't had stupidfied her.

"I just wanted it all to stop," he answered truthfully. "I was pressured into things that I didn't understand, and I now have my regrets."

Granger seemed satisfied with that. She then told him that she had to meet her friends and to alert her if they needed anything.

Draco then went into the bedroom where his father was sleeping. He stood at the end of it, thinking about what he should do with him to keep him confined to their new home.

"Do you want to know what I would do?"

Draco massaged his temples in complete distress over the day that he'd had so far. "Well, you've got me into this mess, what's your idea this time?"

"Obliviation."

Draco looked at his sleeping father, contemplating the idea. "How much should I eliminate?"

"Oh,  _ everything _ ," Ghost Lucius answered as if it was the most obvious answer. "No one knows myself like I do. At this time in my life, I would do anything to get my rank back with the Dark Lord. I wouldn't want the last few weeks of your work to be wasted over my living half…"

"So you want me to give him _ amnesia _ ?"

"I fear that my living half would interfere otherwise."

"This will devastate Mother," Draco pointed out thoughtfully. "He won't remember her."

"Your mother is a strong woman, Draco, but if he is able to go back to his master, it will not end well for any of you."

Draco nodded. He took a deep breath and raised his wand to rid his father of his memories, but then he lowered it. "I should tell Mother first," he decided. 

Ghost Lucius gave it a small thought before he agreed with a nod.

Draco sat his mother down in the small telly room (Granger had explained what the funny looking box was) so that he could inform her of his plan.

"I have to oblivate all of Father's memories," he announced slowly, shakily. His throat tightened while he watched his Mother swallow uneasily at the news. Tears pooled into her eyes and Draco got up to sit next to her. He set a hand to her shoulder in an effort to comfort her.

"I apologise. I know you love him but—"

"Draco," she stopped him, whispering. "You did the right thing." She gave him a soft smile, setting a hand to his cheek. "You are a good boy. You have more guts than I have ever had."

He shifted his eyes down into his lap, feeling slightly uneasy with her compliment. He wasn't brave. If it hadn't been for his father's ghost from the future, he'd probably be sitting in the Manor right now, pissing his trousers.

"I've always blindly followed your father, trusting his guidance, but lately, I've been having these thoughts… that perhaps he's wrong... that he's wrong about a  _ lot _ of things."

Draco thinned his lips. He could relate with his mother. Draco had been feeling the same for a couple years now, but he had always been taught that Father had their best interest at heart.

"I'm happy to see that you've decided to start making your own choices."

Draco stirred. He hadn't made any choices of his own. He was still following his Father's directions. Only this time, they were from a soul who had been somewhat liberated in his time spent in the future.

He wasn't going to tell his mother about Ghost Lucius though. There was probably a reason that only Draco could see him, and Draco didn't need anyone to think that he had turned into a fruitcake— no one would believe him if he mentioned Ghost Lucius. A time-traveling ghost had never been heard of before.

"We'll handle it," his mother said, speaking about Father's amnesia. "We'll create new memories for him, and our future will be brighter. I also think your father will be happy without having to know about the Dark Lord. He has been unhappy for several years now."

Draco nodded. "Yes, this might be the better option for him."

Narcissa squeezed her son's hand affectionately. "I'm so proud of you."

"I want you to remember how proud you are of me when you get sick of our new peasant lifestyle," he said, standing up, sighing. "It's my fault we're in this."

She deadpanned, fully realizing what he meant. They weren't going to be able to have their house elves or fancy clothing or pampering anymore. Their finances couldn't be touched, as that could be easily tracked.

"It's definitely in our best interest to oblivate your father then," she stated dryly, knowing that he would have the most difficult time with their new spending budget— or lack of one.

"I… don't remember anything," Lucius stated, deep in thought then he had awoken from his slumber. His eyes narrowed in irritation. He sat up in bed, running his hands along his face. "Can you tell me who I am?"

"You are under a temporary alias right at the moment," Narcissa started. "We all are."

"And you are?" the man wondered.

"I'm your wife, Narcissa and this is our son, Draco." She gestured toward Draco who cautiously stood at the doorway.

"I don't remember either one of you," Lucius admitted apologetically.

"We expected much. You're recovering from a head injury."

"So what's my real name and why are we under different identities?"

"You were born as Lucius Malfoy. Since there's a war going on, and being that we're in severe danger, we are to stay put until it dies down."

The man took in the news, not saying anything for a few moments before he asked what his alias was.

"Lucus Jones," Draco supplied, the first he had spoken to his father since he had attacked him at the manor. "I'm better known as Drew outside this home, should anyone ask."

"My temporary identity is Nancy," Mother spoke softly.

"Why are we being hunted?" 

"Because I did a stupid thing and joined the wrong side of the war," Draco explained. "But we're safe for as long as we stay in this structure. When this is all over, we can go back to our previous lives."

"Alright," Lucius said slowly. "I guess you have plenty of time to fill me in on the details."

"We are in a serious predicament, Lucius, if any of us leave, we  _ will _ die," Narcissa told him firmly.

"Well, my dear wife, who I don't even know, I may have lost my memories, but this man surely doesn't wish to  _ die _ ."

"So you'll stay put? You won't leave this home?" Draco wanted to hear his father actually say it.

"As long as I'm not confined to this bed," Lucius said, standing up from it, stretching. "So, what do we get to do in the mean time?"


	4. Four

Granger made sure to drop by and check on the Malfoys occasionally. She kept them up to date on how things were going on with the war and making sure to deliver any supplies they needed.

"Granger," Draco spoke softly, calling her into the kitchen after her explanation of showing how the telly box worked to Lucius and Narcissa. His parents hovered over the contraption, their only source of entertainment for the time being. 

She quietly joined him, peering into the other room, watching Lucius click through one channel and watching it for a moment before switching it to the next channel. 

"What is it?" she asked when she felt they'd be occupied for the time being.

"How's the news on the Horcruxes?"

"We're planning to break into the bank for the cup. It's posing a bit of a problem, giving their security."

"Yeah," he agreed. No one had ever successfully stolen anything from there before. "My aunt has some terrible curses set on her items, so be careful of what you touch."

"Noted," she simply said and then excused herself.

The next time she came back, Granger found that the telly had been destroyed. She eyed the gaping hole over, sending a glance off to each of the Malfoys— now known as 'the Jones' under their new identities to the outside world.

Draco scratched at his neck. "Couldn't find that remote controller thing…" He glanced away, slightly embarrassed at the damage that he had caused to the Muggle object. "It's been quite dull without that idiot box too. Father's about going crazy."

"Indeed!" the elder wizard grumbled. "I'm missing my favourite crime programming!" His face than softened. "Can you fix it?" he practically pleaded of her.

Granger smirked, but she didn't say what was on her mind. Instead, she raised her wand, giving it a tiny twist. Without an incantation, she was able to repair it back to its former state. Lucius thanked her, immediately gluing his eyes to the thing.

"Here, I'll show you how to change it with your wand," she offered. She touched Draco's wrist to position it to the right angle, making him pause, somewhat surprised that she would even do such a thing. They shared a look before she cleared her throat and went back to instructing him.

"We lost the sword," Granger informed Draco days later. "Destroyed the Horcrux though."

"Longbottom needs that to kill Nagini," Ghost Lucius informed Draco from his spot nearby. The ghost had been seated in a chair at the dining table, listening in on Granger and Draco's conversation in absolute silence. 

Draco refrained from looking at the spirit of his father. "Nagini is the only one left that he willingly created, and she hasn't left his side for a while now." He grimaced at the memory of watching that wretched snake eat the former Hogwarts professor. 

"What do you mean  _ willingly _ ?"

Draco pinched his lips together with his teeth, realizing his slip up.

"Nice going," Ghost Lucius commented dryly. "Now, are you going to tell her that her best friend is a Horcrux?"

Draco sent the ghost a look this time, momentarily forgetting that Granger was in the room.

" _ Malfoy _ ?!" she growled impatiently, demanding for an explanation.

Draco trembled and he turned away, muttering to himself. He didn't know if he should tell her or not. Potter learned his Horcrux status from Snape, who Draco hoped that the Gryffindor trio would end up saving with the phoenix tears that he was planning to advise Granger to carry around with her.

"I want to know what you're hiding!" Granger hissed. "Now tell me!"

"He's a Horcrux…" he confessed, seeing no other way out of it.

Her eyes narrowed, taking in the news. And then they widened in absolute horror. " _ Harry _ ?" she squeaked out.

Draco looked away, uncomfortable with the fear in her voice. "Yes. The Dark Lord doesn't know though, and it's best if you keep it that way."

She backed up suddenly, and she began shaking violent. "He's going to have to  _ die _ …!"

Draco directed her to a chair as he was afraid Granger's knees would give out from beneath her.

"It'll be alright," he told her calmly. "Just the attached soul needs to die."

Granger shook her head violently. "He can't survive an attack powerful enough to kill a  _ Horcrux _ !"

"Which is why he needs all three of the Deathly Hallows," Draco reminded her softly, trying to settle her down and bring her back to her senses.

Granger dragged her hands across her knees, drying them from a clammy sweat. " _ Yeah _ ," she agreed feverishly. "Yeah, the Deathly Hallows." She was starting to calm down as she thought it over.

"You'll be alright?" Draco asked as Granger made to leave a bit later when she had relaxed some.

Granger nodded. "Thanks," she said quietly. "For everything."

He gave her a stiff nod. "Likewise." 

She turned to leave.

"Before you go," he stopped her, touching her arm, and they stood in silence, both of them stunned that he had done it. He dropped his arm to his side when he snapped out of it. "You may want to carry around a vial of phoenix tears with you on your journey."

Granger tilted her head, questioning him with a look. 

"If there is any time in your life to trust me, now would be the time to do it."

"I have no idea where to even—"

Draco snorted. "Snape's potions stock! He has some there!"

Granger's eyes narrowed, probably wondering how he would even know that. "Alright, I'll see if I can raid it."

"If you can get into Gringotts Bank untouched, you can certainly raid Snape's private stash of ingredients."

She smiled softly. "Yeah," she said thoughtfully. "You're right."

It was the next day. The day that Ghost Lucius said that  _ the _ battle would take place.  _ The Battle of Hogwarts _ it will been called in the future, going down in the Wizard World's as one of the most known in history. 

May 2nd, the day that Harry Potter wins the war. The day that the Dark Lord finally dies.

Draco moved the food around on his plate, unable to eat, too nervous, unsure of the outcome that this day would bring after he had dramatically interfered with the war. 

It wasn't like the food was at all appetizing. He was missing the gourmet meals that he had been pampered with all his life. This meal had came from a box— something that Muggles put together for their convience— and it was a sticky, hideous blob. The noodles no longer had any shape, and the powdered cheese tasted incredibly fake. Draco guessed that some of its lack of taste had to do with his inability to cook though.

Mother choked hers down, never one to complain. He was grateful for that, simply because he felt like piss already for dragging her into this bloody mess.

Father, because his memories had been stripped away, didn't know any better. He ate the glob of glue as if it was the typical meal for him. Right now, the man was in the telly room, eating his dinner, spooning food into his mouth. He probably hardly noticed the taste though, as he was heavily engrossed in the mystery programming that he was watching.

Draco couldn't eat. He should be eating, given the stress he was under, but he was struggling on keeping anything down. He really couldn't afford to skip a meal, given that he was already underweight. Unfortunately, his stomach didn't exactly understand this.

Part of his stress was waiting to hear from Granger. He was beginning to worry. Had anything happened to them? Did the timeline get changed? Had they been murdered? Did the Dark Lord win instead?

He gagged on the thought of his former master winning the war and jumped up, running to the kitchen sink. Chills of terror coursed through his body, and he was having extreme difficulties keeping the bile down in his stomach.

"They're going to be alright," Ghost Lucius assured him. He stood next to Draco as the teenager hurled up his sorry excuse of a dinner. "They are a pretty tough group."

Draco pressed his fingers into his eyes, choking back a sob. "I just wish I knew if they were okay!"

Narcissa thought Draco was speaking to her. "Potter seems quite _ resilient _ ," she spoke softly. "He has never lost yet. Don't doubt him. We certainly can't think like that."

Draco's jaw tightened. His gut continued to make threats against him, and he wondered if there was anything left to even hurl up.

And then, she was there. She had scabs from wounds and bruises all over her, but she was okay. The look she gave Draco told him everything, and without thinking, without even realizing what he was doing, he threw his arms around her, weeping in absolutely relief.

_ It's over _ , his mind told him.  _ They are all safe now. _

  
  



	5. Five

"I'm no hero," Draco stated flatly.

"You saved at least two beings," Ghost Lucius pointed out. "Even if one  _ is _ Dobby, it counts."

"How did I save Dobby?" Draco asked, having not remembered Ghost Lucius mention the elf's death in the first place.

"Your aunt would have killed him if you hadn't stupidfied her."

Draco nodded, acknowledging the ghost's information. "I only did what I should've done all along."

"And so did every other hero known to man."

Draco wrung his hands uneasily. All he had done was given the Gryffindor trio the chance to escape, everything else had been done to protect his family and himself.

Everyone in the Wizard community appeared to agree with his father's ghost though. Draco had been given an Order of Merlin along side with Severus Snape (and many others) who had been a double agent this entire time, acting purely on Dumbledore's orders. 

"You saved Hermione's life," Potter told him when Draco went to argue about the award. 

"You saved  _ all _ our lives," Weasley added. He held out his hand to the blond teenager, calling a truce from here on out.

Draco stared at it. Since first year, all Weasley did was make stabs at how dark Draco's family was (though, admittingly, he was not wrong), but now, Weasley was willing to set aside his prejudices against him.

In disbelief, Draco hesitantly took Weasley's hand and they shook. Weasley sent him a weak smile to which Draco returned. 

"Thanks, Weasley, Potter. You've all saved my life too."

Potter didn't even hold his hand out to Draco, he just snatched Draco's hand into his own, setting his other onto Draco's shoulder. "I'm grateful for all your help, Malfoy, I really am. Thank you."

Draco looked away, uncomfortable with all the praising of him when all he had been doing was trying to  _ survive _ . He gave Potter a nod, unable to verbally answer him due to the tightness in his throat.

They finally left him to himself, moving on to the others who had also won Orders of Merlin.

His mother hugged him close, not even caring if people noticed her doing it. She firmly pressed a kiss to his forehead. "My little man has grown so much this last year!" Her voice was cracking, and Draco closed his eyes, praying that she wouldn't start sobbing right in the middle of the crowd. She then pulled away from him. "Well, let me see it!" she demanded, speaking about the award. "It's been a few generations since a Malfoy has gotten one of these!"

"That's pretty nifty, son," the living Lucius said after the award had been shown to him. "I think that it's fabulous that my son is a hero." He stood up proudly, smugly, smiling at the thought.

"So," the living Lucius started slowly, "you said we were wealthy before all of this nonsense started? Do we still have money?"

Narcissa laughed. "It's safe, we're still swimming in riches, love."

"Oh, thank Merlin!" he let out a sigh. "I was afraid we'd have to eat those revolting noodles for the rest of our lives!"

The three Malfoys exchanged looks before sharing a hearty laugh.

September first came once again. The Ministry had offered everyone the option to retake the previous year due to the war that had taken place. Ghost Lucius talked Draco into retaking his Seventh year as Draco really didn't want to leave his parents behind. The living Lucius was still void of his earlier memories, and Narcissa thought it was better this way. She liked that her husband was happier in this current state of mind and didn't want to ruin that for him.

They had moved back into the Manor, warding off specific rooms, not wanting to trigger any horrible memories. Narcissa set the elves to work, having them redecorate the interior of it so that the home had a more cozy feeling to it.

The Manor now had a telly room— a  _ theater _ more like. Lucius had somehow managed to connect the humongous thing to the Muggle broadcasting network so that he wouldn't miss out on his crime shows.

"They'll be fine," his father's ghost promised him. "All your worries should be gone now. The Dark Lord can't hurt you anymore. It's time to refocus on your schooling."

After talking with his living parents about it, whose opinions matched the ghost's, Draco finally agreed to redo his final year of Hogwarts.

Draco sat in a compartment with his father's ghost next to him. He held a Headboy button in his hands, twirling it around, deep in thought over his new position in the school. He was a very important person now.

"They made you a Headboy the first timeline too."

Draco eyed the ghost over in confusion. "Why?"

"Well, without Potter and Weasley, they had to choose  _ someone _ ."

"And why not some Ravenclaw?"

The ghost gave it a thought. "Maybe they wanted you to know that people thought differently of you. You're not a bad person, but if people continuously say that you're up to no good, it kind of makes you want to act upon it, doesn't it?"

Draco shrugged. "I suppose…" He had always thought it was unfair when someone said that all Slytherins were bad apples.

"Maybe they wanted a Slytherin this year to help with the animosity against them."

"Perhaps," he agreed, pinning the button to his robes. He stood up, getting himself ready to join the headgirl for the meeting that they had to do with the prefects.

He made his way down the busy corridor, nodding greetings to students who acknowledged him. And then he was stopped. A small boy, getting ready to attend Hogwarts for the first time, wanted his autograph.

A child was asking for  _ Draco's _ autograph. 

For the first time in several weeks, it hit him. It hit him like a brick. He was a hero. Whether he believed it or not, whether he could accept it or not, people saw him as a hero, an idol. They actually considered him a _ positive  _ influence to their lives.

This must had been how Potter felt all those years. 

Draco scribbled his signature on the brand new Potions book that the boy (his name was Ben) had held out to him.

"Remember to not stir the Boil cure more than five times," he advised the boy, knowing that it was common for first years to over mix their brews.

"Wow!" the boy gasped out in excitement. "Thank you, Mr Malfoy!"

"See you around, kid!" Draco said. A warm feeling filled his chest as he watched the boy run off to tell his friend that he had gotten Draco Malfoy's autograph.

"Feels  _ incredible _ , doesn't it?" Ghost Lucius whispered into Draco ear.

"Like nothing I've ever felt before," Draco explained, perplexed with the new feeling. He absolutely loved it.

"I told you that they see you differently now," the ghost gloated. "But you refused to listen to me."

"Yeah, yeah!" Draco muttered playfully before ducking into the Heads compartment.

Granger was at the window, on one side, writing down a few notes. 

"Oh, good, you're here!" she said to him, as if the last time that they had spoken to each other wasn't the day that the war ended. He hadn't seen Granger since that day, choosing to avoid her after the meltdown that he had so embarrassingly done in her arms.

"I've got some things I'd like to go over with you before the meeting, if you don't mind."

"Alright." He stood there, awaiting for her to continue on.

She patted the seat next to her. "Sit here, and I'll show them to you."

Draco's jaw set. He didn't feel like sitting next to her, but he  _ did _ have a responsibility to uphold, and Granger was going to be the one to assist him with it. He'd have to buckle up eventually.

Slowly, yet stiffly, he settled in next to her, not unaware with how their thighs were touching. A wiff of fragrance entered his nostrils, and he inhaled a slow breath through his nose, enjoying the perfume that she was currently wearing. It was a spicy, citrus scent, mixed in with a little… He narrowed his eyes, trying to pinpoint the scent. He couldn't, for the life of him, identify it.

"Malfoy?" Granger called out for his attention.

"I apologize," he quickly blurted, taking the parchment that she held out for him, skimming over her notes. This woman was  _ thorough _ , he noted. She had written down the duties that she felt Draco should do concerning the students, equally dividing the work load. She had even gone as far as listing down what each Prefect could do to assist them.

"Do you have any inqueries?"

Draco stirred as he read one of the last things on the list. He about cringed. 

"What is it?" she asked realizing that he  _ did _ have a problem. She leaned over his paper, waiting for him to explain.

"I'm not sure how much help I'll be with this subject." A heat rose to his cheeks. He felt like he was suddenly running a high temperature, and no matter how much he kept wetting his throat, it remained dry.

" _ Oh _ …" Granger acknowledged slowly. "Well that's alright. I'm sure there's another male in our group that could help with that instead."

Ghost Lucius was sitting across from Draco who slumped his shoulders in complete embarrassment. He stretched out across the seat, making himself comfortable.

"Think she knows much about the subject?" the ghost wondered, eyeing over the Gryffindor. "Bet she could teach you." 

Draco's eyes widened in horror, grateful that only he could hear what the obnoxious ghost was saying. Granger hadn't noticed anything, as she marked off some things from her list, adding the lines to another piece of parchment.

"I never expected my son to be such a  _ prude _ ," Ghost Lucius said, almost as if he was disgusted by it. "I suppose you haven't had enough time to think about sex lately though."

"Oh,  _ Merlin _ !" Draco leaned forward, hiding his face into his hands, moaning out in misery. He had never been so  _ humiliated _ in all of his  _ life _ !


	6. Six

"Eighth years!" Professor Sprout called out. "Eighth years, over here, please!"

As the Eighth years grouped up, Draco learned that there were only seven of them who decided to return. Terry Boot, Hannah Abbott, Leanne Frogasfont, Lisa Turpin, Hermione Granger and himself. That wasn't many at all.

Sprout piled them all up into an oversized carriage. The professor explained that there had been a new common room created specifically for them since they were the first Eighth years to ever attend Hogwarts. The common room had seven adjoining rooms, each of them were assigned to one.

Draco thought the idea of having his own room at Hogwarts was nice. Crabbe used to keep him awake with his snoring at school, this year he would actually get some decent sleep.

The Eighth years were quiet, most of the group was still trying to recover from the war, and none of them seemed to be in the mood for chitchat.

"If you need anything, dears, do let me know, okay?" Professor Sprout said as they climbed out of the carriage once their ride was over.

A unison of "Thanks Professor" followed, and Sprout led the way inside, as she filled them in on the plans for that year, which was repairing the damage that had been made to Hogwarts.

Draco stared at the painting that once had the ticklish pear. He swallowed down a wave of emotion. The pear was no longer there, as a large hole had been made from a stray spell.

The Great Hall was a mess too. This was allegedly where the final battle had happened. This was where many had died. The stone had chunks missing out of it and burn marks. The candles were missing, and the house banners all needed repairing.

Draco wasn't the only one affected by this, he heard Granger make a small, undescribable noise. Her shoulders were squared off and she was walking all stiff. Hannah Abbott had tears welling up in her eyes, and she took the sleeve of her robes, wiping them away. Terry Boots displayed a gutted frown.

The group separated off to their different house tables. The tables weren't at all full this year, Draco realized grimly. There were several gaps at the benches between students.

Draco sat by himself, not in the mood to talk with anyone. He saw Zabini sit near Astoria Greenglass, ducking his head to say something in her ear. The girl looked at him, smiling softly.

The Sorting Ceremony started, and as the First years lined up, Draco noticed that there were quite a few First years this year. More than any he had seen before.

Ben got sorted into Slytherin, and the boy didn't hesitate to sit near him. "Hi, Mr Malfoy!" he greeted excitedly. "I'm so honoured to be in Slytherin with you!"

"Call me Draco, will you," he simply ordered of the boy. He thought it was strange for a student to add a mister to his name.

"Sure thing!" Ben loved the idea of being on first name basis with Draco.

As more First years were sorted into Slytherin, Draco found himself surrounded by practically the entire lot of new Slytherins. And when the feast started, several of them began asking many questions.

"Did you really save Hermione Granger from _torture_ ?" one asked. "Did you _really_ save a _Mudblood_?"

Draco winced, having not heard that word in several months, now knowing the true impact of that one, miserable, little word. "Don't say that word, Stanley," Draco scolded him firmly, causing the surrounding Slytherins to silently eye him over. "I mean it; I'll give detention to anyone who says that around me."

"So… _did_ you save her?" a girl named Stephanie asked after their uncomfortable silence drifted away.

"Well, she believes I did, so that's all that I matters, I suppose." Draco tore off a piece of crust from his bread and placed it into his mouth. "But then she saved me too, so we're even."

"Do you still have your Dark Mark?" another girl, Darleen, wondered, eyeing him cautiously.

Draco pulled up his sleeve, showing off his arm. The Dark Mark wasn't as black as it used to be when the Dark Lord was still alive, but the mark was prominent against the pale skin tone of his arm.

"Does it hurt?" Ben asked with a sympathetic look.

"Not anymore. I barely notice that it's even there."

The feast ended soon after that, and the First years were escorted away by one of the prefects, leaving Draco to himself.

"You're quite the celebrity," Ghost Lucius noted, approvingly

"Yeah…" Draco agreed. The idea of him being a hero was surreal.

"Don't you find it strange that Granger is the only Gryffindor to return?"

Draco watched as Granger slipped into the crowd of dispersing students. "They lost many friends and family," Draco answered Ghost Lucius. "They probably just need to move on."

When Draco entered the common room that he had now been assigned, he saw that it wasn't designed for any of them specifically. The colour of a soft tan was made as the main focus of it, with white furnishing.

Off to the sides of the room were seven different arches. One side had four arches, each listing a girl's name, and the other side had three arches, where each of the boys' name were engraved.

Draco silently walked to his archway. There was a short hallway before he entered a small dorm where he had been given a desk, a shelf for books and the typical cubby and bed. There was a door in the room, and Draco opened it to see that it was a closest for his clothing.

He shrugged, finding it satisfactory, and got himself ready for bed.

"Draco!" a voice harshly demanded, waking him up with a start. 

Draco groaned when he saw the ghost looking at him. He turned over onto his side. "Leave me alone, Father! I'm trying to sleep!"

"Granger's in the common room."

"What does that have to do with me? It's her territory too!"

"She's… _crying_."

Draco sat up, rubbing his eyes. "I'm sure she's not the only one doing it, Father… A lot of the occupants here have lost people they loved."

"Yes, but she's… _alone_."

Draco sighed, pulling the covers off of him. "When did you become so sensitive?!" he grumbled.

"When did _you_?" his father's ghost returned cheekily, making Draco huff.

He walked to the archway, catching sight of her hunched over on one of the couches. Her sobs were faint, but her body jerked harshly during her fit.

Draco crossed the room and hesitantly sat next to her, sighing. Her head snapped up, startled with his presence. She wiped away the tears of her eyes.

"Did I wake you?" Granger asked with a frown, disturbed with the thought.

"No," he answered with difficulty, feeling horrid that none of her friends were here to comfort her.

Draco held out a handkerchief for her to take, and she let out a soft laugh, taking it. "Thanks," she muttered. "So why aren't you in bed?" 

He shrugged. "Couldn't sleep." 

She brought the cloth up to her face, and his eyes caught sight of the scar that his aunt had done to her.

"Do you know what is calming to me when I have nightmares?"

Her eyes met his, and she looked surprised that he knew what was keeping her up. "What?" Her voice was small and quiet, childlike. 

"Here," he said softly, touching her scarred arm, and she allowed him to take it. Wandlessly, he conjured up a Muggle's marker, writing additional letters across her arm. When he was finished, she peered down at what he had written.

_MUSIC_

A smile stretched across her face, and she tucked her head into his chest, hugging him. "Thank you," she whispered tearfully. "I really needed that."

Draco was stunned that something so simple could affect her in such away, but he wasn't going to argue. The feeling of her cheek pressed against him, seeking comfort in Draco, a former enemy of hers, awakened a new emotion for him that he couldn't describe. All that he knew was that he quite liked that she found peace in him.

He wrapped an arm around her, draping it along her side, and they sat there in silence until he said, "I'll be your friend, here at Hogwarts."

She lifted her head up, considering his offer.

"If you want," he added quickly. 

Granger set her head back down, and she exhaled a deep, shuddering breath. "I'd like that, Malfoy," she whispered, and it wasn't long before her breathing had a rhythm to it, indicating that she had fallen asleep.


	7. Seven

"You and Granger are getting quite  _ cozy _ , don't you think? First name basis and everything."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Aren't you done with this whole  _ changing my future _ mission? Shouldn't you be on your way by now?"

Ghost Lucius lifted up an eyebrow. "I think you should just shag her already."

The comb that Draco had been pulling through his hair slipped from his fingers. "Father!" he hissed as a blush flushed across his cheeks. "What has gotten into you?! I'm not going to—" 

Merlin, Draco could even  _ say _ the word, terrified by the thought of it!

"I can tell that your heart flutters for her. You know that ill feeling in your gut when you're in close proximity with her? You  _ like _ her."

"Well we  _ are _ friends."

"I mean you like her for  _ more  _ than friends."

Draco bent down to pick up his comb. "You have no idea what you're talking about." Draco pushed aside his Father's words, scoffing. He returned back to the combing of his hair.

"Draco, I'm not an idiot. I'm noticing things in the mornings. You take cold showers for a good reason."

"The bloody hell, Father?!" Draco shrieked. "There is something  _ incredibly _ wrong with you!"

"Well, pull your head out of your arse then," Ghost Lucius told him simply, plucking off an invisible piece of lint from his transparent robes, not at all bothered with the subject. "The sooner you admit your feelings for her, the sooner you can be on your own."

Draco twirled around to stare at the ghost with wide eyes. "What are you saying?!"

Ghost Lucius smirked, satisfied with his son's response. " _ Think _ about it, Draco."

Draco grunted. "You're blackmailing me."

"I'm doing no such thing."

"You're telling me that I'm stuck with you until I admit feelings — that I don't even have— to Hermione!"

"It's not blackmail," the ghost insisted. "It's the final stage of my presence."

Draco put his comb away, and straightened his tie, ready to go down to the Great Hall for breakfast. His face then deadpanned as he came upon the realization of what the ghost of his father had meant.

"You planned for us to… to… be…  _ lovers _ ?!" he squeaked out the last word in disbelief.

Ghost Lucius shrugged. "You seem like a perfect match, I was actually hoping for more than that though."

"And what about…" Draco shifted his eyes down to his feet. "My blood status?"

"Happiness for my son is the most important thing to me now. You are happiest when you're around Hermione Granger. She's an excellent witch, and she would be a great addition to our bloodline."

Draco gaped at his father's ghost, absolutely shocked with what he had just heard. He shut his mouth, wetting it with a gulp. "Well, Hermione and I are just friends," he announced as a lump formed into his throat.

"Which is why I suggest that you kiss her."

"I am  _ not _ going to  _ kiss _ her!" Draco practically shouted. He swung the door open, freezing in terror as Hermione blocked his path to the common room.

"Are you… alright?" she asked, looking him over in concern. She often gave him weird looks in the five months that they had been friends since he was always talking to himself— or at least that's what she thought. 

Hermione peered around him, finding that the bathroom had been empty except for him. "Who were you talking to? I heard you shouting."

"A ghost," Draco muttered. 

"Myrtle is visiting again? I dare say, I think she's jealous of our friendship. She shouts at me anytime she gets the chance."

Draco laughed. "Myrtle and I had a thing in Sixth year. We actually had wished she were alive at one point."

"You didn't know she was a Muggleborn?"

Draco lifted an eyebrow, surprised over that information. "No… she never said anything of the sort, but I'm not sure it would have mattered to me at that point."

The corner of Hermione's mouth tugged to the side a little.

"What?"

"You would have dated a  _ Mudblood _ ?" she teased him.

Draco sighed. "Don't say that word," he pleaded her, regretting that he used to freely toss that insult at her all the time.

"And are you going to  _ punish _ me if I say it again? Take away points from me like you do with the First years when you hear them say it?"

Ghost Lucius chuckled from behind Draco. "She wants you to do more than take points from her, Draco— you're so naive, you can't even  _ see _ it!"

Draco closed his eyes, wishing for the ghost to finally disappear and let me him live his life.

"Just kiss her, damnit." The closeness of his father's whisper made him jump. The ghost was now right behind him. "You know you want to."

"Draco," Hermione stepped forward, closing off the gap between them..

" _ Hermione _ ," he spoke firmly, fighting the urge to run away. "I like the friendship that we have going on here."

She nodded. "I do too, Draco." Her soft smile made his insides burn. He suddenly felt like he couldn't breathe. "But wouldn't you like to exercise something...  _ more _ ?"

Draco tugged at the collar of his shirt, he was starting to feel very hot and sweaty. "Well, I mean, I wouldn't want to ruin anything we have going on," he confessed in a rush of words.

Hermione's smile widened, almost triumphantly, and he backed up into the bathroom, wanting to put some distance between them, frightened by the hunger in her eyes. She didn't take the hint though, and as he bumped into the edge of the sink, with her pressing against him, her touch feeding the fire that was roaring in the pit of his stomach, she lifted her hand, casting a spell, slamming the door shut to lock them inside.

"So?" she asked suggestively, placing her hand to his chest, causing his eyes to flutter close. A whimper escaped his lips. "Should we  _ expand _ our friendship?"

"Oh, Merlin, Draco! That woman is just  _ craving _ the taste of you, just say it, son! Say it,  _ now _ !"

"I don't… I don't know…  _ how _ …" he stuttered, in a massive conflict over his morals and needs.

"Don't you worry about that," Hermione told him, with a low voice, sending the hairs at the back of his neck to stand on end. "I'll teach you everything you need to know."

And before he could protest, her lips crashed against his, and Draco didn't need any more convincing. He surrendered to her, permitting Hermione to further explore his mouth.

Ghost Lucius watched the two teenagers shut out the rest of the world around them, losing themselves in a sea of passion. He felt himself fading away as the future of Draco Malfoy warped off into a different route.

"Goodbye my son," he whispered as tears filled his eyes, immensely happy that Draco would blissfully live on.

  
  



End file.
